


The One With the Slutty Nurse Costume

by elioolivercmbyntrash



Series: Elio & Oliver one shots [4]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Call me by your name, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, I don't know what I was writing, M/M, One Shot, Short, Sick Character, Sickfic, Whump, elio is insecure, nurse! Elio, oliver loves a slutty nurse, sick! Oliver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:35:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24439045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elioolivercmbyntrash/pseuds/elioolivercmbyntrash
Summary: Oliver gets sick. He asks Elio to wear a slutty nurse costume. Elio complies. Just some pure domestic fluff.
Relationships: Oliver/Elio Perlman
Series: Elio & Oliver one shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1720645
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57





	The One With the Slutty Nurse Costume

**Author's Note:**

> ok wow it's been ages since I posted a fic, and I'm gifting you with something mediocre. Sorry about that. Work got very very busy. And then a close family member suddenly passed, and we haven't been able to have a proper funeral because of covid, and I can't explain how much it hurts. 
> 
> This one's short and sweet. And apparently I'm now using Friends as inspiration for my titles.

“I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying,” Elio said, rolling his eyes. “You have a cold. Divo.” 

“I’m dying,” repeated Oliver, pouting. He looked ridiculous, with his hair sticking up in different directions and his nose red and his eyes slightly puffy. His whole body ached, especially his legs. His head was throbbing, which Oliver tolerated better if it was self-inflicted. But no, this was not self-inflicted. This was those god-damned college students' faults, the overachievers dragging themselves to class when they should have stayed in bed, spreading their germs around his classroom. And now he had to take sick leave, which meant his classes were cancelled and the workload would be stacking up if he didn’t get that marking done.

Oliver sneezed. “Fuck. Can you get me some tissues?” 

Elio handed Oliver some tissues and placed a hand on Oliver’s forehead. “Well, you are burning up. You’re not having that duvet. And don’t think about work, for god’s sake.”

“But I’ll be cold,” said Oliver. “How did you know I was thinking about work?”

Elio pulled the comforter off the bed. “You were frowning. You always do that when you’re thinking about work. You’re a contradiction when you’re sick.”

Oliver shivered, his face glistening with a layer of sweat. “Give me the duvet back! I was sweating the fever out,” he protested. “It’s what you need to do. I’m a doctor, or did you forget?”

“Of philosophy. Not of medicine. I’m going to get you a glass of water, and we need to take your temperature,” said Elio. 

“I wish you were in a nurse’s outfit,” Oliver mumbled. “That might take my mind off feeling guilty about being sick.”

“What?”

“You know, a little slutty nurse’s outfits. Like the ones women wear at Halloween? You’d look hot. It would make me feel better.”

“Oliver, you are ridiculous,” said Elio, laughing. “You know I have to go to class, right?”

“You can’t leave me on my own.”

“For God’s sake, muvi star. I’ve got one class.” 

Oliver looked at him, tilting his head to the left and blinking slowly. He was pouting again. “Please stay? I don’t want to be sick on my own.”

Elio chuckled. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. You’ll be OK. Stay in bed.”

*

“Oliver? How are you feeling? The nurse is here to see you,” Elio said, grinning. He’d gone to a fancy dress shop after class, and had managed to rent a slutty nurse’s outfit, because he had to make it up to Oliver for going to class and leaving him home sick alone. He’d lied to the shopkeeper that it was for his sister, who’d got a costume party to attend later (“Yes, I know, a costume party in November,” Elio had said) and had forgotten to get an outfit. He’d changed into it as soon as he got home, and put the thermometer, a glass of water and some medication onto a tray, although he wasn’t sure whether he should be indulging in one of Oliver’s fantasies when Oliver was sick and definitely not sexy. Did this make him look too damn desperate? Why was he worried about looking desperate when they were already living together, in an established relationship? Why was he so insecure? Did Oliver even have fantasies about sexy nurses? 

Elio knocked on the bedroom door, and pushed it open. Oliver was lying on the bed, tossing and turning, muttering and whimpering in his sleep. Elio placed the tray on the bedside cabinet and placed his hand on Oliver’s forehead. “Christ,” he said. Oliver was on fire. “Oliver? Oliver, wake up. I need to take your temperature.”

“Where am I?” Oliver’s voice was raspy. His face was white, and sweat dripped from his hair onto the pillow. “Am I in a hospital? Nurse?”

“You’re at home, you goose,” said Elio. “I think you were having some kind of fever dream or something. And no wonder, you’ve got a fever of 104. Jesus.” 104! Did that mean he would need to take Oliver to the hospital? What would his mom suggest? Elio was shaking as he stripped the blanket off Oliver. Maybe Oliver was going to die. “Oliver, do you think you can manage to get out of bed so that you can have a bath and I can change these sheets?” 

Oliver shook his head. 

“OK, well I will need to just give you a sponge bath then. Sit up, so that I can change you out of these clothes.”

“Elio,” croaked Oliver. “Are you...are you wearing a slutty nurse’s outfit?”

Elio’s cheeks burned. “Yes.”

Oliver chuckled, but his laugh quickly turned into a cough. Elio watched as Oliver gasped for breath, his whole body shaking as he forced gunk out of his lungs. Elio handed him the glass of water.

“You are amazing,” said Oliver. “Now, where is my bed bath, nurse?”

Elio helped Oliver to take off his sweat-soaked t-shirt and his underwear. He placed a damp cloth on Oliver’s forehead, and then, using a flannel, began to wash Oliver from head to toe. As he washed Oliver’s back, Oliver groaned. 

“Are you OK?” he asked. “Are you in pain?”

“It just feels nice,” said Oliver, wishing at that moment that he was not sick. Because here was Elio, wearing a very short white and red dress, suspenders and white fishnet tights, with a white and red cap. If Oliver hadn’t been sick, he would’ve fucked Elio there and then, in the outfit. “But yes, I ache all over.”

Elio gently patted Oliver dry and helped him to put clean clothes on. “Take these, it’ll help with the pain. Do you think you could eat something? I could make Mafalda’s chicken soup, although even when I follow the recipe it’s never as good. I’m no good in the kitchen.”

“Mmm, I would love some soup,” said Oliver. 

*

“You’re a better cook than you say you are,” said Oliver. He’d managed a couple of spoonfuls, before pushing the bowl away. “I wish you wouldn’t doubt yourself so much. Oh, and why did you take the outfit off?”

“I didn’t want to get it dirty while I was cooking,” said Elio. “And don’t say I should’ve worn a little maid’s outfit or something.”

“I wasn’t going to,” said Oliver. “But now you mention it -”

“Stop it,” said Elio. “Your fever has gone down. Can you manage more soup?”

“No,” said Oliver. “But maybe I’ll have some later.”

“OK. Lie down, get some rest,” said Elio. He tucked Oliver in, and played Capriccio in B flat major - On The Departure of a Brother - BWV 992 by Bach for him on the guitar, as Oliver drifted off to sleep.


End file.
